PCM Poem: The People’s Climate March

Birds on sticks fly kite-like

Yellow banners high, dip under wires

Space opens in silver canyon to


One hundred twenty seconds feels long

to hold a stranger’s hand, surrounded by

three hundred thousand other strangers,

street peoples bigger than your city

on an Avenue of the Americas.

All lead and all decide and

all hollered and all walked, together,


Child to great-grandparent,

Mother Earth to Father Time,

Seeking, marching,

Trying to rewire history,

To baptize, cleanse the air

To rain climate justice on fertile ground

Turning concrete into wheat

Harvest coming

Change here

United we live

One Planet,

One Life.


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